


Sunshine, Pies, and Other Warm Things

by annundriel



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 10:56:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 6,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14447826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annundriel/pseuds/annundriel
Summary: A collection of drabbles and ficlets from tumblr.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted March 22, 2016.

It’s strange, watching Bittle–Bitty, he thinks, _Eric_ –sift and measure in his mother’s kitchen in Georgia. Jack’s never been here before, but he feels at home watching Bittle. He leans against the counter, out of the way, as Bittle hums and swerves, hip-checking a drawer. Jack asks about the recipe and Bittle beams at him, bright as the Georgian sun spilling through the window above the sink, and Jack wishes he had brought his camera down, wants to save this Bitty there for him later when he’s back in Providence.

He doesn’t move. He doesn’t want to miss a moment.

Instead he stands and watches and realizes how often he did this before, without even knowing, back at the Haus. Bittle is graceful and compact and Jack knows what that feels like pressed against him now, front to front, Bittle’s hands careful but firm on his arm, his shoulder. They’d hugged at the airport, Bittle beaming at him before his arms came around Jack’s waist. _Hey, Jack_ , Bittle had said. _I’m glad you made it._

 _So am I_. Bittle had smelled like sunscreen and clean sweat, had smelled familiar and fit against Jack’s chest, beneath his chin, like he belonged there. Jack had wanted to hold him close and keep him there, feeling him warm and alive and present, but he couldn’t, not in the middle of the airport. So he’d let him go, stepped back with a crooked smile. _I’m ready for some southern hospitality_ , he’d said, and followed Bittle through the crowd and outside. The humidity had hit him like a wet rag to the face, but all he could think about was Bitty against him. 

It’s something he’d like to feel again for a more prolonged period of time. Jack’s skin vibrates it, this need to touch Bittle. It has since he left the Haus that last time, distance dulling it until Bittle’s standing an arm’s length away, freckles dusting his cheeks and shoulders.

Jack reaches out, fingers touching Bittle’s summer-warm skin, and Bittle turns to look up at him. His eyes are wide and brown and his lips are pink and parted and Jack’s heart trips in his chest and _this_ , he wants _this_.

Bittle doesn’t taste like apples or cinnamon or even the mint of his toothpaste, but his mouth is warm against Jack’s, lips soft and pliant and parting and _oh_. Oh. He sighs against Jack’s mouth, a slip of sound Jack tastes with the top of his tongue as Bittle turns toward him, their bodies reorienting toward each other, true north found in the space between them. There’s flour on Bitty’s hands and there will be flour on Jack’s shirt, slender fingertips ghosting at bicep, oh, his shoulder.

Jack leans into Bittle, welcomes the tug of Bittle’s hands as Bittle rises up to meet him. Would happily put himself at the mercy of those clever fingers. His own hands find Bittle’s hips and he’s pulling him close even as Bittle is pulling away with a gasp.

“Jack!” he hisses. “We are in my _mama’s kitchen_.”

For a moment, Jack is afraid he’s misstepped, his heart racing for another reason entirely. He lets his hands drop only to feel Bittle’s fingers on his wrists, circling and firm.

“You’ll have plenty of time to distract me into burning something later,” Bittle says, and his eyes are bright, his cheeks flushed. Jack can’t help but grin at him, can only grin harder–his own blush rising–when Bitty breathes, “ _Lord_.”

He gets a pinch of flour to the face when he tries to lean in again, and can’t help but laugh at Bittle’s half-giggled, “Scoot!”

Jack does, feeling light, and watches Bittle at work.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted April 6, 2016.

The edge of the counter is a hard line at the small of Bitty’s back. Outside, he can hear birds, the hum of a lawn mower. Sun pours through the window above the sink, hot against his shoulders where his tank top doesn’t cover.

It isn’t the reason he feels dizzy and over-warm. No, that is entirely due to the boy pressed against him, big hands bracketing his hips, knee nudging between Bitty’s own. Jack presses him against the counter, and Bitty has a passing thought that this is much more pleasant than checking practice before everything is eclipsed by the feel of Jack’s lips–damp, slightly chapped, clinging just so–and the specific width of his palms, the undeniable press of each finger.

The sun, the birds, the world exists and turns and they are in it and Jack is kissing him and this…this is what Bitty will remember later when there are miles between.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on April 7, 2016.

Bitty steps out onto the back porch, glasses of lemonade tinkling with ice in his hands. Jack’s already there, sprawled in the corner of the porch swing. Flip-flops kicked off, he’s pushing the swing lazily with one foot. It’s hot today–it’s hot everyday–and Jack looks like he’s about ready to take a nap, his eyes drooping as his foot flexes against the wood. Bitty grins, thinking about what that would be like, taking a cat nap with Jack Zimmermann. Curled in a spot of sun, Jack’s arms around him and his chest beneath him, their legs bare and tangled together…

Lord.

Flushing, Bitty clears his throat and steps out onto the porch. Jack shifts and looks at him, a slow smile spreading over his face, and Bitty’s heart races.

“Lemonade?”

“Thanks, Bitty,” he says. Reaching out, Jack bypasses the glasses to wrap his fingers around Bitty’s wrist. He tugs lightly, and Bitty goes with a huffed laugh, pulled farther into Jack’s orbit. Jack presses his face to Bitty’s chest, and Bitty can feel the heat of his breath, his skin. Wonders if Jack can feel his riotous heart, if Jack knows that Bitty would give him–

“Anything.”

“Hmm?”

Bitty looks down to find Jack’s sleepy blue eyes blinking up at him, dark hair falling over his forehead.

“I–You’re welcome,” he says. Feeling bold, he bends, presses a kiss to Jack’s forehead.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted April 8, 2016.

Bitty smells like sunscreen. Breathing deep, Jack smells it faintly on the air between them as he watches Bitty make small talk at the park. His hair is curling and damp at his temple, and Jack’s eyes follow a drop of sweat as it makes its way from the line of buzzed hair at the back of his neck down to his shoulders.

Jack’s grateful his eyes are hidden behind sunglasses where he can count Bitty’s new summer freckles in peace. He can taste the sunscreen when he licks his lips, sharp and chemical on his tongue, a hint of fake coconut, and the residual salt of Bitty’s skin. He’d pressed his mouth just there on the round of Bitty’s shoulder, had kissed and grinned against Bitty’s skin as Bitty had laughed, shoulder hitching as he turned to Jack.

Jack had wanted to push him back against the covers of his bed, had wanted to lay him out in the summer sun filtering through the curtains. Had wanted to taste the rest of Bitty’s skin, catalogue each inch.

Instead, he’d gotten up, pulling Bitty with him. Promised himself that later he would kiss Bitty in the dark, fireworks exploding in the distance.

There will be time for summer-warm skin later. For now, he’ll watch Bitty smile and laugh and hide his hungry eyes behind his sunglasses.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted April 9, 2016.

There’s something about being here, mouth pressed to the inside of Jack’s thigh. Bitty sucks a mark there and then, higher, another and another. Jack breathes above him, loud and needy in a way he so rarely is, and Bitty smiles against his skin, turns his head to nuzzle at Jack.

A sound catches in Jack’s throat; a curse, a groan, Bitty’s name. Bitty doesn’t know which, but it zings through him anyway, head to toe and out his fingers where they’re smoothing over Jack’s thighs, up and up to hook at his hips and hold Jack still as Bitty shifts to mouth at him. He breathes deep. There’s nothing but Jack, nothing but the smell and taste and sound of him, the way his hips hitch and sweat sheens his skin. There is nothing but Jack and Bitty, and there–between Jack’s thighs–Bitty’s heart thrills.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by 3.1. Originally published April 11, 2016.

Jack’s arm is heavy and warm around Bitty’s shoulder as fireworks explode above them, their bare knees brushing, fingers tangling together. Jack turns to nose at Bitty’s ear, his breath gusting soft and warm against Bitty’s skin. He doesn’t need to see Jack to know he’s smiling; he can feel it. He can feel Jack smiling beside him and he feels as light and bright as the fireworks above.

“Bitty,” Jack says, just a whisper between them. “Bits.”

Bitty shivers, turns to him. Presses their foreheads together. “Jack,” and then Jack is kissing him, slow and sweet. Jack says his name and kisses him, holds his hand in the back of the truck, holds him close. Tells Bitty, only a little haltingly, how he feels, heart pouring open.


	7. Skype Dates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't stop thinking about this after the notes for 3.1. Originally posted April 12, 2016.

Skype dates. The first time Jack and Bitty Skype. It’s the first time they’ve seen each other’s faces since the kiss. They’ve texted lots and called, of course, but when Bitty’s face appears on Jack’s screen, Jack’s heart trips in his chest. Bitty can’t stop smiling, a blush high on his cheeks, and looking down. Then back. Then down. Jack is charmed, he is completely gone. How did he not realize this? And then they both open their mouths and words pour out and it’s *easy*, it’s so surprisingly easy to talk to Bitty, to listen to him. Each Skype call is better than the last. They make Jack feel light, and by the time he’s packing his bags to go to Georgia, he’s already biting his tongue on things he wants to say in person, things he think might be too soon for some, but feel just right for him, for Bitty, for this thing Jack didn’t know was within his grasp all along.


	8. Fourth of July 2015, 11:45 PM - Jack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sequel to marswithghosts' [Fourth of July 2015, 10:57 PM](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6596902/chapters/15091702). Originally posted April 13, 2016.

The ride back to the Bittles’ is…surreal, Jack thinks is the best word for it. They clean up and Jack watches, lip held tight between his teeth, as Bitty shifts and shimmies next to him, rearranging and rebuttoning his shorts.

“Now where did my–oh!”

Bitty finds his tank on the floor and moves to pull it over his head, pausing when he realizes it’s inside out, not noticing Jack is watching the way his muscles move at his stomach, his shoulders. His mouth is pink and damp and swollen with kisses taken and kisses waiting, and Jack hardly notices what he’s saying until Bitty’s hand is on his knee and his lips are forming Jack’s name.

“Honey,” Bitty says, flushing, “you’re going to have to move to the front if we’re going to go.”

Jack doesn’t want to. He’d rather stay here in the backseat in this field with Bitty. He moves, though, grimacing at the way things shift and stick, and when he’s in the front seat and Bitty’s got the key in the ignition, he slips his hand across to graze his fingers along the cuff of Bitty’s shorts.

The look it gets him makes him want to laugh, so he does. He feels lighter than he has in years, and when they walk into the convenience store, he trails behind Bitty. Watches the line of his shoulders and the nape of his neck, thinking about the kisses he dropped on that sweetly freckled skin.

 _Lord_ , he thinks, and it’s Bitty in his head.

It makes him smile, which makes Bitty smile, and before he knows it they’re back in the truck, their fingers tangling in the center of the seat.

At the house, Mrs. Bittle is wiping up the counters in the kitchen, puttering before bed. She smiles at them and asks if they had fun. Bitty laughs and kisses her cheek, assures her they did while presenting the gallon of ice cream and hooking his thumb over his shoulder at Jack.

“Someone here got a craving.”

Jack rubs the back of his neck, offering them up a sheepish grin. “It’s the heat. In fact,” he says, “I think I might take a quick shower? I feel–”

“Sticky?” Bitty asks, and Jack hopes no one takes his blush for anything more than the effect of the heat. He’ll get Bitty for that one later.

“Yeah.” He picks at the sides of his shirt. “That’s a good word for it. Ice cream after?”

He escapes up to Bitty’s bedroom where he left his bag earlier and tries not to stare at the air mattress already blown up and waiting on the floor. The thought of sleeping in Bitty’s room–of sleeping so near Bitty and being unable to sleep with him–makes something catch in his chest. He wants it. He wants to curl around Bitty badly, to wake up with Bitty’s hair tickling his nose. For now, this will have to do.

In the bathroom, he peels out of his clothes, loosely folding them on the counter. Naked, Jack feels better already, skin finally able to breathe. He pulls back the shower curtain, turns on the water, and steps in.

At the Haus, he never shared a bathroom with Bitty, and he can’t help but take in the row of shampoo and conditioner, the body wash and soap. Something in his chest swells as he takes in these details–tiny and intimate–of Bitty’s life, and standing in Bitty’s shower, surrounded by the smell of Bitty’s shampoo and body wash, Jack can’t stop the grin that takes over his face, doesn’t even want to try. He rinses off under the spray, enjoying the way the water feels on his scalp and tired muscles, before lathering up, eager with the thought of Bitty smelling himself all over Jack. This morning he was in Rhode Island. An hour ago–not even an hour–he was touching Bitty, Bitty’s mouth was on his. His hand was on Bitty’s cock and Bitty was coming and–

His dick is half-hard with interest, and Jack is tempted to touch himself in Bitty’s shower. But Bitty is downstairs waiting for him. Bitty is waiting for him with his summer-sweet skin and his dark eyes, his soft mouth and big heart.

Bitty is waiting, and Jack doesn’t want to get ahead of him. He wants them on the same page until they reach the end of what he hopes is a very long book. So he rinses and dresses and when he slips behind Bitty in the silent kitchen, he smiles and lets it all show.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by 3.2. Originally posted April 13, 2016.

Everyone knows Jack is passionate about hockey, but Bitty knows the way Jack kissed him in the Haus, has seen the way Jack looks at him with miles and millimeters between them. Has felt the full force of his attention turned on him in the privacy of bedrooms, Jack’s eyes intent, his hands gentle for as hungry as they are.

Bitty hides bruises, delicate and darkening, in the shape of Jack’s mouth at the rise of his hip bones and the inside of his thighs, and knows, with perfect certainty, what it is like to be something Jack is passionate about.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My darling marswithghosts asked me to tell her a story. Originally posted April 15, 2016.

Summertime, and Bitty smells like sunscreen. All those acres of skin, and all Jack can do is watch. He knows Bitty knows he’s watching; he keeps glancing back at Jack. Eyes big and brown and warm. And Jack doesn’t even…All the things he wants aren’t even anything shocking. He just wants to put his hands on Bitty’s shoulders, feel them shift against his palms. He wants to press his lips to the crown of Bitty’s head and breathe in the smell of his shampoo, the hint of sunscreen and sweat. To hear Bitty laugh as he pulls him back against his chest to wrap arms around him, despite the heat. To feel Bitty'a free hand squeeze his forearm. God, he _wants_.

And later, later when they are alone he’ll lay Bitty out on his bed, push his tank top up his stomach. Lay open mouthed kisses from navel to the hollow of his collarbone before working back down. He hovers a moment, and then blows a raspberry, Bitty shrieking above him. Jack presses his grin to Bitty’s skin as Bitty laughs and flails and tugs at his hair. Has never felt like this in the history of the universe–has anyone? He looks up at Bitty, finds Bitty looking back golden and glowing, his face open and flushed, his eyes big and full and Jack realizes they’re reflecting whatever’s in his face, a Möbius strip that twists and turns back and back, his happiness multiplying Bitty’s, Bitty’s multiplying his. It should be terrifying.

Instead, Jack laughs and nuzzles at Bitty’s stomach, nips at his hips. Tells Bitty he can’t promise anything when Bitty demands no more trumpeting. Is delighted when Bitty pets his hair and calls him honey and wants nothing more than this, here, forever.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give me them happy and laughing in bed please, curled around each other in the morning light, blankets kicked to the end of the bed. Originally posted April 17, 2016.

Jack slumps back against the pillows, laughter huffing out of him as Bittle fingers dig into his sides.

“Stop,” he gasps, reaching for Bittle’s wrists. “Bitty, Bitty, I can’t–”

He could tip them easily with a roll of his hips, deposit Bittle into the bed beside him. Follow him over and pin him there. But Jack finds he likes this, Bittle a solid weight in his lap, smiling down at him in the morning light. His hair sticks up in golden tufts from sleep and Jack’s own fingers tugging it the night before. Bittle’s eyes are wide and warm. They crinkle at the corners when he laughs, and Jack doesn’t think he has ever seen anyone quite as beautiful as Bittle in the morning.

“Bitty.” He tugs at Bittle’s hands, laughing now at the look on Bittle’s face–surprised and pleased–when he ends up sprawled on Jack’s chest. “Come here.”

Bittle grins and squirms against him. “Yes, sir, Mr. Zimmermann.”

It’s a good morning.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted April 19, 2016.

Jack checks the locks on the front door of his apartment, making sure they’re latched, before switching off the light in the living room, then getting the one above the stove. He checks the lock at balcony as well–habit–and pads quietly down the hallway toward the bedroom where light pools through the open door, golden and warm.

Bittle’s in bed already, propped up against the pillows he’s commandeered for his side. (His side, Jack thinks, heart fluttering. Bitty’s.) He’s got his knees pulled up beneath the comforter, and Jack can just see Señor Bun’s ears peeking out from his lap as Bittle does…something on his phone. Tweeting, probably, about his first night officially moved to Providence in Jack’s apartment. Their apartment. Jack could chirp him–will later–but for now…Bittle hasn’t noticed him in the doorway.

Jack takes in the soft tufts of Bittle’s hair, the way the bedside lamp catches on it, making Bittle glow. He looks happy, there in bed, happy and sleepy in a way that makes Jack’s heart clench in his chest. Bittle is really here. His toothbrush sits beside Jack’s in the bathroom, his shampoo is in the shower. His running shoes are next to Jack’s at the front door and his clothes hang next to Jack’s in the closet and Bittle himself is waiting in bed with his Falconers shirt and his bright eyes and that smile he saves for Jack, only for Jack.

“You gonna stand there all night like a creeper, Mr. Zimmermann,” Bittle says, not looking up from his phone, “or are you gonna join me?”

Huffing a laugh, Jack steps through the doorway. “Hadn’t decided.”

Bittle mock frowns and sets his phone on the nightstand. “Oh, well, that’s a shame.” He pats the bed beside him, eyebrow raised. “Seems like an awful big bed for just me, don’t you think?”

Jack pretends to contemplate this for a moment, and then he grins, his thighs tensing. “You know, I think you’re right.”

He launches himself at the bed, pleased with Bittle’s laughing yelp, the way Bittle’s fingers tangle in Jack’s t-shirt, the way Bittle smiles up into his kiss, like this is all either of them have ever wanted.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted April 20, 2016.

Bitty’s flush goes from his cheeks to his chest. There’s something about this discovery that makes Jack grin as he presses kisses to Bitty’s stomach, slipping lower to nuzzle at his navel, the sparse line of hair leading lower. Jack hovers above him, but he can feel Bitty’s hard every time Bitty shifts and they brush, can feel the heat coming off of him.

Jack nips at the rise of a hip bone, grinning when Bitty’s breath catches above him, and moves to press his face against the hard line of him. It’s been…a while since he’s done this, and Jack knows as soon as he moves to slip Bitty’s shorts lower that his hands will shake and that most of it will be the thrill of Bitty under him but part of it will just be nerves.

Will Bitty like it? Will Bitty like him? Will this be good? Will it be–

“Jack,” Bitty sighs, hand tentative as he reaches for Jack. His eyes are wide, and all Jack can see in them is love and amazement. Maybe some disbelief, which is just…How can Bitty not know how much Jack wants him?

“Bits.” He noses against Bitty’s cock, breathing deep. “Can I?”

He looks up to see Bitty nod, lick his lips. The pink flash of tongue zings through Jack, and he can’t help but remember their positions being reversed, Bitty between his thighs looks sweet and sinful all at once as he licked at the head of Jack’s cock before fitting his lips around it.

Swallowing hard, Jack shifts and hooks his fingers under Bitty’s waistbands, tugs as Bitty lifts his hips, shorts tangling at his feet. They chuckle, and Jack melts a little, amazed that he can have this happiness with this boy. He tosses Bitty’s shorts and underwear over his shoulder, unconcerned, and then he turns back to Bitty and–

He’s seen Bitty naked, of course, first in the locker rooms and then in the Haus and then yesterday. Yesterday when they’d curled together on Bitty’s bed and Jack had wrapped a hand around him, had touched him as Bitty panted against his neck, soft sounds of want that went straight to Jack’s dick. They’d touched and kissed and Bitty had come clinging to him and it had been everything Jack had wanted in that moment. Maybe ever.

This is different. Bitty’s thighs–strong and finely muscled–are spread to make room for Jack as Jack settles back on the bed, shouldering between his legs. He presses a kiss to Bitty’s knee, then another higher up. Another. He bites at soft flesh and grins when Bitty’s fingertips brush his hair and then Bitty’s cock is there, curving and hard, flushed dark at the head.

Jack’s mouth waters. He reaches for Bitty, shifting his weight to rub a palm up Bitty’s thigh. Hair pushed against the grain tickles Jack’s hand and Bitty’s muscle twitches beneath the touch, eager and nervous both. Jack knows the feeling. His own heart is riotous in his chest. It would be overwhelming, but Bitty is looking at him, Bitty is touching him, and when Jack wraps his hand around the base of Bitty’s cock, when he leans in to mouth up the length of him, the joy in his breast drowns out the rest.

The noise Bitty makes at the first touch of lips, the first hint of tongue, doesn’t hurt either. He gasps Jack’s name, hips tilting upward, heels digging into the bed. He looks at Jack like he can’t believe him, like he’s never felt anything this good. How does Bitty not know *he’s* the lucky one?

Jack hums, vowing to show him, and fits his mouth around him, swirls his tongue at the head. Tastes Bitty sharp on his tongue and groans when Bitty does. Jack takes him in, inch by inch, and releases him just as slowly. He savors Bitty, wanting to make this last as long as possible and knowing–deep down–that it doesn’t matter. This isn’t the only or the last; this is the first. Long or short, this is the first and the reality of that burns within him, brighter than the sun.

Bitty comes with Jack’s name on his lips, his fingers on Jack’s face, and Jack swallows him down, stays there with him through it all. He doesn’t want to miss a moment, wants to save this all for later when he’s in there are miles between.

He doesn’t mean to come in his pants, hips pressed against Bitty’s bed, but he does and all he can think is that the Bittles won’t be home until later and there’s a shower just big enough for two down the hall.

“Was that okay?” he asks, nuzzling at the crease where Bitty’s thigh meets his hip, sucking at the soft skin there.

Bitty’s laugh rings through the room, and Jack can’t help but smile.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “I’m think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.” Originally posted April 22, 2016.

Bitty sighs and doesn’t want to move despite the sticky heat that pools between them. His tank top clings to the small of his back and there’s swear collecting in the bend of his elbow, but Bitty doesn’t care. He’s happy in a way he never thought he’d be sitting in the bed of his dad’s truck, tucked close to Jack Zimmermann’s side.

Jack can’t be totally comfortable, either, and the fact that Jack hasn’t moved his arm from around Bitty’s shoulders makes Bitty’s heart flutter.

They wait for the sky to get dark enough for fireworks, and Bitty can feel the rise and fall of Jack’s chest beside his. Can almost imagine what it would be like to fall asleep and wake up to it. He has to turn his head and hide a grin at the thought of it and the knowledge that, yes, it is not just possible that he will find out, it is actually highly probable.

“Are you laughing at me, Bittle?” Jack’s voice is low between them. There’s a quality to it that Bitty’s beginning to understand is solely for him, for these moments when they are alone together.

Shaking his head, he turns to look at Jack. “Of course not, honey,” he says, heart skipping at the way Jack’s face goes soft and bright at his word choice. Bitty swallows and pats Jack’s bare knee, just below his shorts. “I would never.”

Jack’s eyes narrow. “Now you are.”

Bitty laughs and presses closer, head tilting against Jack’s shoulder. He reaches for Jack’s hand–the one currently in Jack’s lap–and tangles their fingers together. “Only a little.”

He feels Jack’s head turn, feels him press a smile–then a kiss–into his hair. It’s quiet for a moment, nothing but the outdoors and their two riotous hearts, and then Jack sighs and says, “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified. I’m–”

Bitty’s chest goes tight and hot and he’s having trouble breathing.

“I’m scared that it’s too soon. Too soon to tell you, I mean. You’re–I’m–” Jack sighs, a gust of air against the top of Bitty’s head. “But I love you, Bits.”

Bitty hardly hears him over the thunder of his own heart. He thought he was as happy as he could be before.

It had nothing on this.

Shifting, Bitty pulls away to look at Jack. Jack, who is looking at him with his sad eyes and worried mouth. Jack, who got Bitty up before the sun to make him better. Who teases Bitty about his phone and his music. Who likes history documentaries and country and who wants, so badly, to be better even though he’s already everything, he’s–

“I love you, too.”

Jack’s smile blooms on his face, brighter and more dazzling than the fireworks above.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [this moment](http://omgcheckplease.tumblr.com/post/75898957599) from _Check, Please!_. Originally posted April 23, 2016.

Bitty stands at the counter in the Providence kitchen, mixing dough, when he hears Jack pad up behind him, stocking feet near silent on the hardwood.

“Hey, honey,” Bitty says, smiling at the bowl in front of him as Jack’s arms slide around him. Bitty pushes back into him, welcoming the warmth of Jack’s chest along his shoulders, of Jack’s breath against his neck. Jack kisses just behind his ear, a spot that never fails to make Bitty shiver, and Bitty tilts his head to give him more space. “Enjoy your nap?”

Jack hums against him, nuzzling. “Would’ve enjoyed it more if you’d stayed.”

Bitty had tried, really, but there’d been an itch under his skin only baking could scratch. “I know. I wanted to try something with this new pecan pie recipe.”

A kiss pressed lower on Bitty’s neck, then behind his ear again. His earlobe caught between Jack’s teeth in a gentle nip. Bitty yelps and laughs and pushes back into Jack, happy to be here in Providence in their home–it’s theirs, even if Bitty doesn’t live there full-time yet–with Jack pressed against his back, perfect and–

“Pecan,” Jack says, voice low and rough and–

Bitty stops stirring. “ _Pecan_.”

Jack’s lips brush his ear. “ _Pecan_.”

“I understand that you think you’re right, Mr. Zimmermann, but the fact of the matter is you’re wro–oh!”

He should be annoyed that Jack can pick him up so easily, that Jack has found all the places on his ribs where he’s most ticklish.

Mostly Bitty can’t stop laughing long enough to care.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted April 25, 2016.

Jack steps back into the bedroom to find Bittle already dozing on his back, nearest arm flung over his head. His fingers curl gently into the cup of his hand, and Jack’s breath is caught at the sight of him in the grey light coming in from the street, the way it lingers at the hollow of his collarbone, melting lovingly over the planes of his chest and down his abs to where the sheets hide the rest.

At his side, Jack’s fingers twitch for his camera.

He steps forward, padding quietly, and lowers himself beside Bittle on the bed, crawling carefully until he’s tucked next to Bittle. On his stomach, he props himself on his elbows and takes the still rare opportunity to look.

Bittle’s face is relaxed, unlined, and Jack’s heart thuds slowly in his chest at the sight of him here in his bed. He’d gotten in earlier that evening, and Jack had swept him from the station to dinner to home–his home, their home eventually. He’d taken Bittle apart with his hands, with lips and teeth and tongue. (There will be a bruise, Jack knows, in the shape of his mouth high on Bittle’s thigh, a secret only they know.) They’d clung and pressed and surged against each other, and Bittle had smiled when Jack got up for a damp cloth to clean them. Had been dozing when Jack came back.

Slowly, Jack reaches out to trace the soft line of Bittle’s eyebrows, pale in the dim light. He stops in the middle to follow the sloping bridge of his nose to the point, then back up, across the other.

The corner of Bittle’s mouth twitches.

Across the tops of his cheeks, Jack can just barely make out the lingering scatter of freckles. They remind him of Madison, of a humid night in the back of the Bittles’ truck. Of words whispered because any louder and they’d catch in his throat.

Jack wants to shout those words to the world now. Soon. It’s only a matter of time.

He traces the curve of Bittle’s cheek with the side of his finger, watching as Bittle’s eyelashes flutter. His eyes open half-way, sleepy and dark and Jack wants to curl there in Bittle’s warm gaze like a cat curls on the sun. Bittle blinks and reaches for him with the arm curved above his head, tangles lazy fingers in Jack’s hair.

Turning his head, Jack nuzzles at Bittle’s arm, breathing in the smell of skin and sweat, of sex, of Bittle. He presses a kiss there, Bittle humming beside him, and then returns to his examination, his fingers already knowing their destination as they trace the bow of Bittle’s top lip, the gentle curve of the bottom.

A gasp, silent, and those lips are parted.

Jack pauses, feeling Bittle’s breath against him, and then the tip of Bittle’s tongue presses forward; a tease, an invitation.

Jack’s heart picks up pace as Jack presses into the sweet heat of him. Bittle’s lips close around him, his tongue cradling, curling, his teeth–careful–holding him, and Jack’s breath catches. His other fingers tremble against Bittle’s jaw.

“Jack,” Bittle says s moment later. His voice is thick and low, throat catching at the end. It sends shivers skittering down Jack’s back. “Kiss me.”

Bittle here in his bed–their bed–in their home, how can Jack refuse.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted May 4, 2016.

Jack on his knees, lips pink and parted, slick with spit and precome. His hands on his thighs, he’s trying so hard to be good. To not touch. To wait for Bitty.

It makes Bitty’s heart race, seeing Jack like this, patient and waiting, wanting. He watches Jack watch him though the dark line of his lashes, takes in the flush of his cheeks and the hint of stubble at his jaw. He watches, and strokes himself hard, cock slipping through the slick ring of his fingers, and groans Jack’s name when he comes across his waiting face.

It’s the slip of Jack’s tongue that undoes Bitty after, the tip of it sneaking out against the corner of his mouth.

“Jack,” he says. “ _Lord_ ,” and then his hand is on Jack’s jaw, turning his face just so. He leans in, tongue against skin. Tastes himself and Jack beneath, feels stubble beneath fingers and tongue.

Jack whines, a sound high in his throat that makes Bitty ache. He’ll take him to bed after this. Take him to bed and stroke the hard planes of him, kiss all the soft spots he finds.

But first he licks the edge of Jack’s jaw, catches himself there, follows the line of his chin. Kisses him deep.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted June 14, 2016.

There’s flour everywhere. Jack’s not sure what magic Bitty works when he bakes alone, but with Jack at his side? It’s like the bag of flour exploded. It litters the counter and the floor, dusts Jack’s forearms and the front of his shirt, does its best to dull Bitty’s pinking cheeks.

It fails spectacularly on the last part, Bitty laughing long and hard and doubled-over as Jack blinks down at him. His own mouth quirks up at Bitty’s mirth, and even though the kitchen–and the two of them–are a mess and the pie is probably a loss, Jack can’t deny the feeling that fills him as he watches Bitty laugh.

He is home and he is happy and this? Is it.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [this art by pawspaintsnthings](http://annundriel.tumblr.com/post/146078315877/pawspaintsnthings-you-guys-have-no-idea-how). Originally posted June 17, 2016.

Their lips cling, tongue slipping against tongue, and Jack is amazed by Bitty’s contradictions; the softness of him, the hardness. Jack could kiss his plush mouth for hours, for days, could lose himself tracing figures on the smooth planes of Bitty’s skin. It’s amazing; he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of this, of Bitty pushing up into him, of Bitty’s hands firm and steady at his shoulders, the small of his back. Of Bitty sure and certain in front of him, dark eyes meeting his head on.

Bitty at his side, Jack could conquer anything.

For now, they kiss.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted June 18, 2016.

There’s not a place on Bittle Jack hasn’t kissed, not a ticklish spot he hasn’t ferreted out with patience and determination and a whole weekend to themselves. He’s touched the backs of Bittle’s knees and the insides of his elbows, the arches of his feet and the knobs of his ankles and wrists. At the curve of his shoulders, Jack has counted the fading freckles with fingers and lips and tongue, sucked marks there for Bittle to touch when he’s back at the Haus pulling his shirt on for the day.

(Jack thinks about this a lot, Bittle carrying a piece of him, a reminder, even miles away. He aches for the day he can carry these as well and thrills the first time–every time–Bittle nuzzles at the inside of his thigh and leaves a darkening bruise high up. Jack touches it with reverent fingers later and can’t believe his luck.)

Laid out against the sheets in Providence, Bittle is a sight. Jack trails fingers up Bittle’s shins, over his knees. Grins when Bittle squirms and laughs and draws Jack’s name out like he can’t bear to stop saying it. It makes Jack feel full of light, the weight of the world gone from his shoulders. All that matters here is his careful cataloging of Bittle’s sounds and expressions, the deliberate exploration of his abdomen and chest, the wings of his collarbone and the dip in between. With fingers and lips, teeth and tongue, Jack caresses and kisses, nips and licks, loves Bittle without words because actions, Jack’s found, always speak louder.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For jaradel. Prompt: jawline kiss. Originally posted June 21, 2016.

Straddling Jack’s lap, Bitty’s never felt more powerful. Knees on either side of Jack’s hips, Jack’s thighs shifting beneath him, Jack’s hands flexing at his shoulders, the small of his back, all of it has Bitty feeling incandescent, on fire from the inside out.

Jack groans, his head falling back against the pillows, the headboard, when Bitty rolls his hips. It gives him perfect access—his intent—to the column of Jack’s throat. He presses his mouth there, mouthing at his Adam’s apple, sucking at his pulse point. Pressing a kiss to the corner of his jaw.

Together, they burn.


End file.
